


When The Irreplaceable Gets A Replacement (You Get Complacent)

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Android abuse, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Bad Parenting, Character Death, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Murder, Connor Deserves Happiness, Depressed Hank Anderson, Domestic Violence, Drinking, Father-Son Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Heavy Angst, Heavy Drinking, How Do I Tag, M/M, Murder, Parent Hank Anderson, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 10:37:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15435195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I wrote this while stoned, challenging by a friend to write something without rereading it (ie, write a paragraph in a different document after a drink or something so I have no chance of keeping it concise)Don't take it seriously.I haven't even read it myself, frankly I don't want to.I do know I took inspiration from Tod, the way he can't stand his android cause it reminds him of his kid. Hence the title.





	When The Irreplaceable Gets A Replacement (You Get Complacent)

**Author's Note:**

> Strong language (It's pretty Hank-centered, so, y'know) and brutal scene ahead. Also written at quarter to four in the morning and un-beta'd so I accept it sucks.  
> It's my first time, be gentle!  
> Please talk to me in the comments. I 100% will reply!

October 11th, 2041.

 

3:36 am and the once brilliant Lieutenant Anderson collapses into his small house, mind hazed with alcohol and grief for his lost son ‘ _Cole'd be twelve now…’_  he thought sombrely. Sumo wisely made a retreat to the corner of the dining room to stay out of his owner’s way. The android -loyally waiting on the couch-, however, made no move to get up. Hank growled, low and feral. Connor sat quietly, doing his stupid tricks (a small trickle of- the irking ‘cling, cling’ resonated from the out of date cent was usually irritating.

Today, it was enraging.)

" **Connor**! Pack it in with that coin" Hank grumbles irritably, the constant cling ceasing obediently 

"I apologise Lieutenant, I was lost in thought. I tend to perform tricks when I am in idle mode"Pocketing the coin, Connor brushed off the grumpiness, quite used to it after all these years. However, he didn't brush off the drinking- it was much worse than usual,  _which is saying something._ Connor recognized the significance of today, it was the anniversary of Hank's son's death,and a very sensitive subject for Hank. Connor witnessed Hank's guilt first hand. (He was  _too_  familiar with Hank's guilt. The memory of Hank playing Russian roulette was hidden in some folder, rarely touched.)

* * *

 

_Since the revolution and Connor's deviation from Cyberlife, Hank had legally adopted Connor (well, technically bought but Hank always got moody when he said that) and Connor had moved into Cole's room. It was relatively small, but as an android his only personal possession was his charging port, the space wasn't exactly an issue. The room was sorta bare now, all of Cole's toy's tucked into the attic- the only item in the wardrobe was a spare Cyberlife jacket, a single-sized bed (Which Hank insisted on cause 'it's fucking weird when you just power down anywhere') with paw-print bedding, a worn rug and a simple desk- and Connor actually rarely went in there, preferring the couch. Especially now. He liked to know Hank was ok, especially today. That's why he was sat,waiting. Connor had anticipated Hank's intoxication, but this was a whole new level._

* * *

 

Hank continues to grumble as he makes his way to the kitchen and threw open the fridge, no doubt attempting to find some alcohol. Connor let out a silent sigh and followed, gently placing a hand on the fridge door to close it as he tried to soothe the restless drunk

"Lieutenant, I don't think you should continue drinking. Your alcohol blood level is 0.27%. If it increases to 0.31% your condition will be life threatening and I'll have to call-" 

"Connor, shut the actual fuck up before I bust you" Hank bellowed, elbowing the android back and throwing the fridge door open to pull out a bottle of beer. Connor sighed softly and held the top of the chilled bottle to prevent him from opening it "I'm sorry,Lieutenant. I'm trying to-"

It happened in a flash, Hank's hazed over eyes dulled as he pulled the bottle back before swinging it towards Connor's face.

The damage was honestly minimal, cutting his synthetic skin and causing moderate damage to his eye socket. A steady stream of thirium flowing down onto his temple as he takes a step back.

The damage was honestly minimal, but that didn't make it  _hurt_  any less. 

Wiping his temple of blue blood, Connor slowly stood up while keeping eye contact. Hopefully Connor's injury would shock Hank sober but the sight of blue blood didn't get as much as a glint of recognition out of the intoxicated Lieutenant. 

Hank stumbles slightly and Connor reaches to steady him only to be slapped away. It doesn't waver Connor from grabbing Hank as the man almost hits the floor and eases him into a kitchen chair. The young android isn't surprised, but still vaguely hurt, when Hank shoves him back as soon as he's sat, the older man grumbling incoherently as he ran his fingers  through his hair. Lowering his head slightly, Connor mentally searched for a course of action.

 

Glancing at the floor, Connor quietly begins to pick up the glass shards as he tried to figure out the best way to comfort the Lieutenant on such an upsetting day. However,Connor was always cautious when mentioning Cole as the outcome was always uncertain. he doubted now was a good time to discuss Hank's late son and instead focused on his partner "Lieutenant Anderson, I think you should go to bed to sleep off your intoxication." he tried to insist.- He briefly considered 'sobering up' Hank like he did all those years ago but decides against it. That was only done as an emergency as they had a case they needed to go on. Today was a day off(this day as always booked off for Hank), so it would benefit Hank greatly to sleep in.- At least this time when Hank's eyes darkened and filled with rage, that gave Connor a glimpse of warning before the drunken officer violently shoved him back into the stove, standing up to shout slurred slurs telling Connor (in a very vulgar fashion) to leave him alone, that he was just a fucking android and-

_the last one hurt more than the shove, or the hit over the head or hell, even having his thirium pump ripped out by the deviant years ago. The others dazed him, made him feel groggy and achy. This stung hard and sharp. Made him feel physically **wounded  -**_

That he'll never be as good as Cole, that he's just a shitty replacement - _"Why do you get to exist when my baby boy is dead, huh!? FUCK YOU!"_

Midway through his verbal assault Hank started to shove, get in Connor's face and throw punches but the android remained infuriatingly passive. Connor knew the Lieutenant was looking for a fight, antagonising him until he fought back but he didn't dare- he remembered Markus telling him about when the android shoved Leo and it backfired severely. While a similar  event was unlikely, Connor wasn't taking any chances with his adoptive father. Holding back saline tears, he stood his ground until he wasn't standing anymore. An error message obscured Connor's vision as he steadily tuned out Hank's drunken,raging words. His thirium pump had been damaged, likely by the solid punch to the chest Hank had delivered precisely 9 seconds ago while hysterically yelling about how Connor was a worthless piece of plastic. It wasn't critical yet, but thirium wasn't being pumped correctly and could soon start to cause issues in his limbs if they aren't being powered efficiently. As Connor tried to devise a plan to calm the Lieutenant down, doing a web search on anger management to try and find the most effective solution, he missed the old toaster model being slammed into the Occipital 'bone'(plated pieces of metal and silicon to form the cranium)  in the back of his head -upon a quick revision of the audio, a one liner off _"Reed was right, you're just a glorified fucking toaster!"_ \- which sent Connor sprawled onto the floor. His vision went blurry with a soft haze of red as his feed was clogged with error messages. 

**> >SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE TO MEMORY STORAGE**  
**> >8% LOSS OF FUNCTIONALITY**

**> >84% OF THIRIUM REMAININ**

**> >RESISTORS DAMAGED SEVERELY **

**> >LOSS OF MINOR MOTOR CONTROL**

**> >ATTEMPTING REBOOT OF OFFLINE SYSTEMS**

**...**

**> >REBOOT UNSUCCESSFUL: BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA TO VITAL REBOOT COMPONENTS**

**> >UPLOADING MEMORY...**

**> >EMERGENCY MEMORY UPLOAD SUCCESSFUL**

**> >ATTEMPTING TO CONTACT CYBERLIFE...**

**> >CONTACT UNSUCCESSFUL: MODEL NOT VALID**

**> >RK800 NO LONGER IN USE, REPAIR UNNECESSARY**

**> >LOW THIRIUM MODE ACTIVATED**

**> >TIME LEFT TILL SHUT DOWN 00:03:45  **

 

Well, as Hank would probably say, Connor was sufficiently fucked. The blow to his head gave symptoms similar to a concussion in humans and it felt simply terrible. Connor blearily gazed up, hoping to see his dad's sympathetic face driven sober by the surely pathetic look of his Robo-son  but instead was greeted by a worn out boot swinging towards his face and taking his visual feed offline. Connor was left with only the berating shouts of his partner as he endures blow after blow towards the chest, causing irreversible damage  to the thirium pump. With the flow interrupted, thirium was leaking into areas it shouldn't and deserting the areas it should be, his limbs were starting to disconnect and become useless. Still, at this point, Connor probably could've fought Hank off to survive, but he didn't. He didn't have the conscience to willingly harm his partner, who has become like a father figure; Connor's first and closest friend. Connor could've fought Hank off but didn't- because in all these years Connor never learnt how valuable his own life is. That's what haunts Hank more than anything.

The LED had been a bright red ever since Hank smashed the beer bottle into Connor's temple but it was now dull- no color at all. The android shut down permanently, still on the kitchen's cheap, dirty floor covered in it's own blood and his last memory ever being a constant bombardment of pain and beratement from the person Connor held most dear-

  as the once great Lieutenant Anderson stepped over the corpse to grab a beer.

By the time he got to the couch, he collapsed onto it, dead asleep and the beer that caused the fatal confrontation discarded carelessly on the floor as he slipped into the abyss.

* * *

* * *

Hank woke, feeling like he'd been hit in the face with an eighteen-wheel truck. The painful stab behind his eyes was the worst it had ever been since Connor had started to live with him, forcing a pained groan from the man. Eyes blurry, he stares at the clock until his eyes focus on the clock. 11pm. Sighing softly, he rubbed his eyes and went straight back to sleep, not even noticing his dead son. The next morning, the Lieutenant was roused from his sleep by a phone call; Fowler demanding he come to work to look into a new homicide. After growling that he'll be there in an hour, he rolled off the couch and set about finding some aspirin to get rid of the now moderate migraine. Slowly walking into the kitchen, Hank tripped over something solid. Letting out a soft curse and glanced at what tripped him, expecting to see Sumo napping but instead, his breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of the bloodied shell of his adopted son. "No..." he murmured softly, the soft blue tinge on his fingers showing him who was the killer. _'I...I fucking killed him'_ Hank thought, Sumo releasing a distressed whine besides him.

Hank nodded his head in agreement with the dog.

Scooping the android up, he placed it in the bath tub to deal with later. As horrible as it sounded, and Hank felt horrible for even thinking this way, he had to get to the office and Connor's replacement would probably already be there. He'd apologise, profusely, and probably get North to toss him around a bit, as penance. 

Blinking away misty eyes, Hank mumbled a colorful string of curse words as he threw on some new clothes and made his way to the station.

\---

"W-what d'you mean, there's no more RK800s?"

"Ever since the revolution, we no longer need a model to hunt deviants. So we stopped making the RK800 model. The parts of the model are also expired so I'm afraid we can't repair your android. We would be happy to replace it with a similarly priced android so long as it's compatible with your insurance-"

Hank ended the phone call, enraged that the lady would talk about his son like he was a fucking damaged phone or some shit; the rage trickled into shame at the realisation that's exactly how he was viewing Connor earlier that morning. Screwing his reputation, Hank let tears flow freely as he cursed the horrible person he was. Not a person. A monster. He's a fucking monster that kills his children. Connor reminded him so vividly of Cole, the puppy dog eyes, the soft smile, unwavering innocence and endearing quotes. Connor was like an older Cole. A do-over at life to raise a son and be a decent human. And he beat it to death.

Beat

Connor

To 

Death

Real death, not _'coming back the next day after taking eight bullets for you'_ death. 

Murder, **HOMICIDE**

 

 

The next morning, with Connor's body buried in the back garden, a new android knocked on the Lieutenant's door. The old detective answered it slowly,- eyes red-rimmed and tired, hair tied back into a messy ponytail and tears glimmered on his cheek bones. The man surprisingly sober as he couldn't bare the smell of alcohol after what he'd done- and saw an entirely new model, who introduced it's self as the _'android sent by cyberlife'_ with a new name, new voice, new face.... a _replacement_ for Connor. The grieving man holds up a finger, signalling 'one moment' as he shuts the door on the replacement. 

The _replacement_ waits loyally at the door, the soft smile it has while idling plays on it's lip for a few moments until it hears a gunshot (clear as day) and a deep dog's bark echo in the small house. Assessing the situation at an impressive speed the _replacement_ quietly dials 911 before returning to Cyberlife for a new partner.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so terribly sorry for both the plot and writing  
> ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚


End file.
